


nuance of art

by homosexualbyers



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2018-10-21 23:23:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10685025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosexualbyers/pseuds/homosexualbyers
Summary: Will doesn't do art partners. He likes control and to work how he wants. Until Mike is assigned as his partner and he doesn't like it one bit.





	1. Chapter 1

“For this particular assignment you will required to be in pairs.” Mr Norton says, walking amongst the students and separating them into twos. 

Will sighed down at his sketchbook and continued scratching away at the dragon he was doodling in the corner. He hated paired worked, especially when the teachers picked your partners. Will’s art was very personal to him and he could never work to his fullest with another student breathing down his neck. More so when they were the kind of shit heads at Hawkins School of Art. Through his years here Will had managed to keep his head down and get out of any paired work he could. Mr Norton was a little more persistent. 

“Will, your going to be working with Mr Wheeler at the back there.” Norton told him. 

Will’s stomach dropped. Not Mike Wheeler. 

“Sir…” he began. 

“I don’t wanna hear it, Will. Now take your bag and sketchbook to the back of the class and sit yourself next to him.” Norton said sternly. 

Will closed his sketchbook and stuffed his pencil and equipment in his pockets and walks to the back of the classroom. He spots Mike, leaning with his elbows on the desk and cradling round soft cheeks in his hands. He beams up at Will, eyes misty with curiosity. Will feels something lurch inside him and sits down.

Mike puts his arms down and turns to Will in his seat. Will has to take a deep breath when he notices how close they are.   
“Hello, I'm Mike Wheeler. I’ve seen you around.” He whispers. That sticks to Will. Mike had seen him around. He was sure he'd been great at not being seen around. 

“But I haven't caught your name?” He asks. 

Will turns to him and finds himself able to count every freckle on Mike's face, he gulps and looks down. He fights the urge to smile at Mike’s ridiculously cute Dungeons and Dragons t shirt. 

“Hey, Will Byers.” Will says, so quietly he's surprised Mike can hear him. 

Mike’s smile drops and he's confused for a moment then he smiles again. 

Will’s eyes widen. “Jesus! No. No, okay. Sorry - I'm Will Byers, you're Mike Wheeler.” He stumbles out, scrambling to fix what he said. 

Mike giggles wonderfully and Will inches away and mentally shakes himself. 

“That's okay, Will Byers.” Mike tells him. 

Norton has come back to the front of the class, having finished pairing everyone else up.

“OK, there's about 20 minutes left.” He announces to the class. “Let’s get you and your partners better acquainted! Sit opposite each other and do rough sketches of each other in your books. It doesn't have to be perfect, you don't even have to hand them in. They can go in the trash for all I care. Unless you pansies wanna pin them on your bedroom walls!” 

Mike goes round to the other side of the desk and sits opposite Will. He opens his sketchbook onto a clean page and starts roughly drawing the outlines of Will’s face. 

Will looks down at his sketchbook, still laying closed on the desk. Back here, sat at Mike’s table he can see everything. Every student, every secret wrongdoing, like a group of girls painting their nails on the third row and the boys cat calling over to them. Sam, the quieter boy he usually sat next to is struggling to cope with his new partner. There’s another group of feminine boys too, sat there in their swanky designer clothes and drawing snootily. Every group more absurd than the next and Will didn't feel he fit in any of them. 

“Will, can you look this way for a sec?” Mike asks.

Will looks back to him and watches him scribble away at Will's eyes, he feels a shudder pass through him when Mike studies his face, he feels very bare. 

“Why are my lips like that?” Will asks, pointing at the drawing. Mike had coloured his lips in a dark blue colour. 

Mike smirks and picks up his blue pencil, he waves it around like a wand. “It brings out your inner beauty. Highlights how pretty they are.” He announces proudly. He puts the tip of the pencil between his teeth and bites down. 

Will watches his every move. ‘Inner beauty’ ridiculous, he thinks. With a obnoxious roll of his eyes he flips open his sketchbook and buries his face in it. 

*

The Byers home was small and seedy. It was drastically different from Mike’s suburban home. He takes in the dried out grass, the muddy paths and the peeling, splintered wooden front door with a somewhat askew door knocker. He can see Will watching him as one might when showing a strange disfigurement or telling of a weird habit or something else to be ashamed of. Mike smiles at him politely. The place had a sharp contrast to the rest of Hawkins which was brightly pristine, it was a contrast Mike had never quite seen before, having never ventured to this part of town, but he didn’t think of that as anything bad. He didn’t think Will should either. 

Will opens the door and they go in. In here it’s more homely, very well lived in but homely. Joyce is sat in the living room reading, she looks up at her son as he enters and her eyes widen and she smiles wide when she sees a boy stood there beside him. “Hello.” She says spritely, her son was never one to bring boys home so this was a strange and rare occurrence. 

Will looks back at Mike as though he’d forgotten he was there and looked him up and down cautiously.

Mike had his hands tucked in his jean pockets and as ever a grin on his face.

“This is my art partner, we have homework to do.” Will tells his mother. He walks off, nodding for Mike to follow. 

Joyce rolls her eyes, and smiles at Mike who was still stood in the doorway of his house. “Does art partner have a name?” She asks. 

Mike extends his hand and they shake, “Mike Wheeler, Mrs Byers.” He tells her. 

Joyce nods in recognition. It was a small town and she knew his parents. “Let me know if you need anything, Mike.” 

Mike follows Will into his room. Will’s room is another sharp contrast. It’s exactly like Mike would imagine someone like Will would spend most of their time, everything from his comics to his school books to his arts supplies is organised with pristine precision and everything is sort of vividly brighter than normal. 

Will is already pulling out art books and setting them on the bed. “I thought we could start looking through some existing artists works.” He says, not looking up from the index page of a particularly big book called Still Life: the Early Days.

A boom box on Will’s desk catches Mike’s eye. “Woah, sweet!” He gasps, going over to it and runs his hands over the buttons. There’s a box full of cassette tapes next to it which all have covers designed by Will himself in green felt tip. “You have a lot of mixtapes. I don’t have any of those. They’re cool though. That is so cool that you can pick your favourite songs from different tapes and artists and play them all together. I’d probably make one with all the best of The Smiths and Elvis Presley! Jesus! Don’t tell anyone I love Elvis Presley! Can we play one?” 

Can he control what comes out of his mouth? Will thinks to himself. He holds up the book in his hand for Mike to see. “We need to work.” He tells him. 

“We can listen whilst we work.”

“We won’t be able to concentrate.”

“Sure we can! I listened to my walkman all through Norton’s test last semester and I aced it no problem!” 

Will looks up from the book. “You have a walkman?” He asked. He’d always wanted one of those. He heard the sound quality wasn’t as good as his boom box but he just loved the idea of caring his tapes around with him and listening to them whenever he wanted. 

“Yeah.” Mike says, he slips his backpack off and puts it on the bed and takes out a yellow Sony walkman and puts the headphones on and presses play. “A well’a bless my soul what’s a wrong with me? I’m itchin’ like a man in a fuzzy tree” he starts to sing, deeply imitating the rock singer and swaying his hips. “My friends say I’m actin’ wild as a bug I’m in love! UH! I’m all shook up!” He steps side to side and starts to click his fingers like he’s some performer.

He’s completely silly really but Will couldn’t stop himself from watching him, a boy who was the polar opposite to him that he was painful beginning to like. Only a little. 

*

Mike drums his fingers against a hardcover book about Davinci, he bobs his head to Burning Love playing from the boom box. They had been working for an hour, or more like Will had written down some good info about a British artist called David Hockney, Mike had picked him out much to Will’s displeasure. Their project was to study landscape artists and apply their styles to their own work. Hockney’s style was far far too bright and arrogant for landscape art. The colours just didn’t make sense, it was too weird and unrealistic. Bloody paired work, Will thought. 

“Do you want me to do something, Will?” Mike asked, as the song came to an end. “I’m kind just sat here doing nothing. Want me to pull my fingers out of my ass?” He smirks. 

Will shrugs. “I like doing stuff alone.” 

Mike sighs. “Of course you do.” He says. He takes the book Will’s reading out of and his notebook starts jotting stuff down anyways. 

Will gives him a dead stare. “I said I didn’t need your help.” He spits. 

“Well I’m helping anyway! Besides your hand must be aching.” He jabs back. 

The boys hear a car pull up in front of the house and shortly after the front door slam. Will shudders slightly. The new arrival exchanges loud and rather obnoxious greetings with Joyce. 

“You can’t do it all on your own, William.” Mike told him. 

“Hmm?” Will had drifted off with his thoughts for a moment. 

“The art project. Besides I don’t think your bland taste could appreciate Hockney.” Mike watches him slyly for a reaction. Mike was intrigued by Will. He had a lot of levels to him that needed a good poking to come out. 

“My bland taste?” Will huffs, he leans back on his bed and opens a book about Claude Monet and reads it grudgingly.   
Mike laughs.

After a while Mike stands up. “Where’s your bathroom?” he asks. 

“Oh, I thought you were working?” Will mocks. He still looks at him a little bitterly. 

“I have a bladder!” Mike sings.

Will rolls his eyes. “Down the hall to the right.” 

When Mike leaves Will takes a peek at what Mike wrote. Surprisingly, he’s impressed. Mike has a completely different way of talking about Hockney that almost makes him a good artist. 

“Your Ted Wheeler’s kid, right?” Will hears a man say from the hall. 

Mike laughs tensely. “Yeah, I am, sir.” He replies. 

The man grunts and continues walking down the hall. Lonnie Byers stands in the doorway of Will’s room. Will sits up a little straighter and hurriedly starts to write in the notebook. Lonnie scowls down at his son, he looked like he’d found Will and Mike doing something utterly wrong in his eyes and he was disgusted that he’d even dare.   
“What’s he doing here?” He asks. 

“Just a art project, Dad.” Will says. 

“Just a project? How long is this project?”

“2 weeks.” 

Lonnie shakes his head frustratedly. He advances into the room. “You ain’t coming back here again. Ain’t going over to his house either. Not having you going to that part of town and those kinds of people, you hear me, Will?”   
“But we need to, to study.” Will looks up at him, needily. With his Dad, not matter how much he failed, Will always tried to convince him when he really needed something. 

“No. You can study at school. We pay a shit ton for you to go there, may as well use it. A Wheeler isn’t the kind of person my son is hanging around with, ever. And turn that off!” He was starting to raise his voice now. 

Will got up and turn off the boom box, cutting Elvis off mid way through the chorus of Stuck On You. This would be where Will stopped. Silence would resume and he’d let his father’s word pass. But he doesn’t. “He’s not bad, Dad. He’s nice.” He tells him, struggling to sound firm and sure. He slumps on the bed again. He looks at the Elvis cassette case discarded on his desk beside the boom box by Mike. 

Lonnie steps in front of him and glares down at his tiny son. “I know whose son he is, Will. I know what hippy bullshit, politically correct nonsense is stuffed in that boys head. I won’t have it tapering with you too. I raised you right. I sure as hell didn’t raise you to be a fag. Is that what you want to be?” Lonnie’s voice had raised higher and higher as his spat out his angered commands. Will felt his knees shake uncontrollably and his throat get tight and raspy. 

“I’m not. I’m not I swear.” He tells him, his voice a tremble. 

Lonnie huffs, still at a displeased with him. His hand starts to raise.

“Lonnie!” Joyce snaps from the door. 

Will wipes his face and turns to see Mike stood at the door and Joyce shortly behind him, beaming red with aggravation. Lonnie stomps pass them, giving Mike a dark look before he leaves. Joyce looks between the two kids for a moment and smiles, unsure of what to do for them both. She closes the door behind Mike. 

Mike stays by the door and smiles glumly at Will. He had heard all of it and seen most of it. He felt sore and misplaced here in this situation, like he’d walked in on Will’s innermost layer and Will had been very against consenting to it. And with that innermost layer coming out the sassy, smart and shining Will that had started to seep out in the hour they’d studied together went back in. 

“Are you letting this happen, Joyce?” Lonnie asks his wife outside the door. “We should’ve never sent to that school! Had him mixing with these people!” 

“What’s happening here, Lonnie, is Will has a friend and you don’t get to have an opinion about who that is.” Joyce fires back. They move into the living room and their voices became muffled. 

Will sniffs and sits up. He glances over the books and adjusts the cover of one of them. He smiles weakly and tucks a bit of his hair behind his ear. To Mike he was a soft small harmless wonder in that moment and he knew he needed something more. No matter how much he wanted to get out of there and he felt odd and weird about this Will must have the worst of it and he needed to get out. 

“Shall we start our rough sketches of this Hockney painting now?” Will asks. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Mike says, he sits besides Will, their knees touching. 

Will rolls his eyes but not with the same flourish as before. “We have to study. It’s getting dark.” He tells him. 

“We can’t stay in here for another moment. Don’t you ever get out and seek inspiration somewhere for your art? I do it all the time. There’s this way cool music store I like to go to, they have all sorts of hella nice old records and damn, the cover art is always so night. I got the idea for my final piece last year from a record there. Come on, what place in Hawkins comes to mind? Something special?” 

He was back to pouting out bullshit and Will liked that. “The arcade.” He eventually says.

“Great!” Mike puts his backpack on and gets up. He presses play on the Elvis tape again and plays it loud enough that Will’s parents won't be able to hear them. He measures himself up against the window then looks at Will, trying to figure out if they can both fit. He opens it up and jumps out. 

“Come out with me, Will Byers.” Mike calls through the window. 

 

With a flourishing roll of his eyes Will Byers grabs his backpack and jumps out of the window too.


	2. Chapter 2

Their trainers squeak along fine tarmac, shining from the glow overhead. Will walks solemnly, his hands stuffed in his pockets and watching every step his own feet take. Mike bounds along beside him, hammering on about milkshakes, of all things.  
“No one ever buys the peanut butter ones!” He tells him. “But damn, Will, you gotta try em. They're the freaking best! It's like a huge glorious cup of feels, man.”  
Will nods.  
Mike looks Will up and down. He goes to put his arm around him but Will sidesteps away from him. “Come to the parlour on main street with me and Lucas and Dustin on Saturday. You know, if you don't mind Lustin all up in your face. I'll pay.” Mike suggests, hopefully. 

Will looks at him and shakes his head. “I'm sorry. About earlier.” He says softly. 

Mike shakes his head frantically. “No, Nah. It's fine. No biggy.” He tells him. He wants to go to put his arm around him again but holds himself back, knowing Will would pull away. 

The boys walk in silence.

“You don't believe any of what he says do you?” Mike asks.

Will doesn't reply. 

“You ain't no fag, Will.” Mike shakes his head and looks off into one of the houses along the street they're walking, he can catch the blurred lights of the evening news his Dad forced them to sit through every night. 

After some deep consideration, Mike asks “Are you?”

“No!” Will says hurriedly. “I'm not like that. Not at all.” Saying that doesn't sit right in Will’s stomach. He opens his mouth without thinking cause that's the only way he thinks he can say it. “Maybe. I don't know. Sometimes I think he's right.” 

Mike smirks. “My heads just full of hippy bullshit and politically correct nonsense I don't care if you're gay.” He says joyfully.  
Will laughs. His dad if anything was very dumbly blunt. 

Mike chuckles. “What are you so afraid of?” He asks him.

“That back there.” He replies.

Both boys stop walking and turn to each other. “Awh, Will.” He whispers. 

Mike steps closer to him, their noses almost touching and Will can hear and feel his warm drawn out breaths. 

“This isn't something to be afraid of, Will.” 

Mike feels like should twitching, or shaking or his heart should be beating fast. He feels ablaze with something deep down but for some reason it doesn't do any of those things and he can only be still and smile. 

Will leans in, to perhaps just quickly kiss him but backs up and continues walking. “We gotta get going, get there before the arcade closes.” He says.


	3. Chapter 3

‘Aha!’ Mike yells, managing to blast one final monster (which is in reality a collection of pixels which actually doesn’t look like a monster at all) before the timer runs out. He holds the plastic space blaster high up to his chest, back straight and and knees together, grin wide and really quite full of himself.

The machine wails and the final scores blink up onto the screen putting ‘WILL THE WISE’ above ‘MIKE THE MASTER’. Mike gasps. 

Will giggles. “I thought you said your ‘the best at this game no one can beat me’?” He asks. 

Mike raises his eyebrows and looks at the blaster in his hands. ‘I do always beat Lucas and Dustin!’ He gloats. It looks like he might put the blaster back for a moment but turns and fires at Will, the plastic weapon making no noise apart from his rapid tapping of the button. 

Will continues to laugh as he fires back. Two go further into the aisle with their guns, tugging at the wires holding them to the machine. They hurl Star Wars esque jokes at each other as they battle, each boy finding this as ridiculous yet hilarious as the other did. 

A man peers around the corner of a Space Invaders machine and Mike freezes then takes Will’s blaster and shoves them in their holders.

“Nothing, Mr Romero.” He says.

“Closes in 15 minutes, Mike.” The man grunts before going off back behind his counter. 

Mike puts his hand on Will’s back and hurries them  
to the front of the arcade where booths line the windows. He and Will sit opposite each other in one of them. They were the only ones left in there, all the games just flickering and beeping at orange walls alone. Mike taps a quick precise rhythm  
into the table with his fingernails.

“I’ve never been out this late before.” Will says sheepishly. His arcade trips mostly consisted of him and his brother needing to get out of the house during a particularly chaotic argument between their parents, mostly on Saturday afternoons which were designated as ‘family fun time’. 

“Really? Me, Lucas and Dustin love to close the arcade. Mostly cause Lucas just won’t give into losing though.”

Will watched him smile fondly as he told this quick fact about his friends. He wondered what facts he would tell about his friends, if he had any. 

‘Do you think Dustin and Lucas would be fine with me coming with you on Saturday?’ He asks.

‘Yeah, i don’t see why not.’ He replies. Mike brings his knee up against his chest and clasps his hand around it. “They’ve been together for a year now and Dustin’s always telling me that I should find someone ‘because I can’t third wheel forever.’” He air quotes Dustins words and rolls his eyes.

Will knew Dustin and Lucas were infamous for being in some kind of relationship from whispers around the school. They went to the public school in the centre of Hawkins where boys dating boys especially black boys were few so naturally they were talked of with distaste and fascination. Will didn’t know much of them apart from rumours which are usually just that and his Dad (and you can imagine what that’s like). He didn’t really see why it was his business and knew gay people had tough lives and he had plenty toughness on his own thank you very much. And he didn’t fancy asking his abusive homophobic father about the local queers. 

“They’re happy together?” He asks.

“Oh yeah. They were best friends for years before they got together. Honestly like so tight that they were basically a couple anyways.’ He nods, watching Will closely. “They’re mostly okay with homophobia if that’s what you mean.” 

That was kinda what he mean. He nods back nervously.

“Dustin’s parents don’t care much and Lucas’ are too bothered by everything else to worry about who their sons got the hots for.” Mike says, getting the gist that Will wanted to know more but felt too awkward to ask. “I was the first person they told actually. It’s… I don’t know. Cool, I guess. I’m happy for them.” 

A car pulls into the arcade parking lot and honks it’s horn. 

Mike squints through the window. “That’s my Mom.” 

They leave through the front door and Mrs Wheeler rolls down her window when she sees the boys approach. 

“Hey boys.” She greets softly. “Michael, does your friend want a ride home?” She asks.

Mike shrugs.

“Oh, no thank you, Mrs Wheeler. My house is just around the corner.” Will replies. Coming home, when he wasn’t even supposed to be out in the first place, in the Wheeler family’s car would be the cherry on top of the ‘I Hate My Faggot Son’ cake. 

Mike opens the passenger door and sits down, his legs still hanging out the door. “Please come on Saturday, Will.” He says, looking pleadingly up at the smaller boy. “It’ll be nice to not be the third wheel for once.”

Was that a wink? Did he wink? Was that flirty? Will thought. “Maybe.” He mumbles. 

“See you later, Will.” 

“Bye.” 

Mike watches him sulk off. His hands are in his hoodie pockets and his shoulders hunched, he watches his tiny feet clack against the ground as he moves further away.

“Michael, get your feet in and put your seatbelt on.” His mom tells him, confused at her son staring off at his friend. Did Michael even hang out with Joyce’s kid? 

“One second, Mom.” Mike sings, jumping up from his seat and out of the car. He jogs after Will. “Hey, Will!” He calls after him.

The boy immediately stops and looks up sniffing. 

Mike comes to a stop directly in front of him. “If it helps I’m bisexual.” He tells him, pulling his best proud face which he knew Will thought was stupid. 

He turns from back to the car then back to Will again. See you tomorrow.” Mike rubs Will’s shoulder affectionately and jogs off.

*

Will crawls through his bedroom window and switches off the boom box. Mike had left all his cassette tapes and walkman on his desk. He takes the Elvis one out of the boom box and runs his finger along the spine, over the bumpy ness of the paper label which Mike had scrawled the name of the album on. He takes the walkman too and lays back on his bed, holding them both close. Mike is bisexual. He now knew not only a boy his age but a boy who likes boys and not even only that he was a cute boy who was nice to him.

If he strained his ears he could hear his dad yelling at the football on the TV. This was a constant sound throughout the house at this time of day. Lonnie had always been rather drunkenly into football, a kind of drunkenly where he took it far too seriously. It seemed quieter to Will tonight though. Like his dad and the things he said were a lot further away now, the thought of Mike and that silly wide smile and all the bullshit that came out of his mouth blocking it’s path. 

Will put the Elvis tape into the walkman, covered his ears with the headphones and clicked play. He could see why Mike liked this.

*

The next morning before first period Mike found a paper bag stuck to his locker with sellotape. Inside are all Mike’s tapes and a mixtape of the best from The Smiths and Elvis Presley with a cover hand drawn in green felt tip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this chapter! 
> 
> so so so sooo darn sorry it took so long! i’ve been distancing myself from the stranger things fandom but with season 2 this month i’m being dragged back! i do appreciate all your lovely comments and requests for updates though. i’m just very inconsistent and have terrible cases of writers block. good news is i’m in a byler mood and i’ll probably start chapter 4 tomorrow! 
> 
> leave me a comment letting me know what you’re thinking so far <33


	4. Chapter 4

Mike drags back the chair opposite Will and kicks back into it. He dramatically puts his walkman onto the table and arches his eyebrows.

“William, this… mixtape… rocks, dude!” He exclaims, leaning forward on his chair legs to meet Will’s eye where he’s hunched over their research on Hockney from yesterday.

Will clicks his pen and looks around the near empty library eyes locking on the feminine boys from his and Mike’s class for a moment. He clicks his pen again and continues to write. 

“Mike, I think we should keep working on our project to class time or at your house after school.” He says, not looking up from his paper.

Mike furrows his eyebrows and his chair’s legs slam forward again and he sits upright. “I thought we were gonna do research during lunch and keep practical to after school and class?” He asks. 

Will shakes his head. “It works better this way.” He says curtly. 

Will gets up and walks over to the non-fiction section, finds the Art and Design section and starts looking across a shelf. A. B. C. D. 

Mike follows and leans against the bookshelf Will is look at. “Are you embarrassed of me, Will?” He grumbles mockingly. 

Will flicks his eyes over to look at him. Angling his face down, Mike arched his eyebrows together and puckered his lips, fake sulking. He looks like some silly over miserable animal. It makes Will’s heart lurch. 

He wasn’t embarrassed. If it were up to him he’d spend every school day working with him. Well… perhaps just for the project he’d need his creative freedom back sometime. But he didn’t realise until earlier that day who Mike’s school crowd were. Who he sat with at lunches and walked with in the halls sometimes and met up with before school. The popular kids. Now popular was different in an art school as it might be in a public school. Here they were less your local redneck asshole and more the highly critically acclaimed protégés of Hawkins School of Art’s alumni. People who had to win the contests (and mostly did) and were less than nice to their competition. They were not the kind of people who Will wanted to draw attention from. He couldn’t let them throw him off his game. Not now when he had finally gained his place here. 

He shakes his head and gives up on looking for his book, he couldn’t concentrate with Mike here. “I thought you’d like to spend lunch with your friends.” He said before walking past Mike and back to his table.

Mike laughs. “Really? That’s what this is about?” He asks, following Will and sitting back down across from him. “They’re just school friends, Will. Not really real friends. I need to have someone to hang around with don’t I?” He leans back on the back legs of the chair and puts his hands flat on his thighs. 

He thinks for a couple seconds, his expression blank but eyes deep with something… Something like, something like frustration. It’s odd for him. He sighs, dragging it out like one of his tunes, and he tilts his head back and looks up at the ceiling. 

Eventually he says “This school, ugh. These people. It sucks.”

Will puts his pen down. “What do you mean? It’s art school.” He says. It seemed simple to him.

Mike looks over at him, leans forward again and smirks. “Yeah, you’d say that wouldn’t you?” He picks up Will’s pen and taps him on the head lightly with it. “But I got you now don’t I? Don’t need no popular kids. I’ve got you and you have me.” He sings. 

Will giggles. “Yep.” 

Mike gleams at him and holds his own cheeks in the palm of his hands and rest his elbows on the table. “Now, do you want me to go find that book that you were too caught up in staring at me to find?” He asks. 

Will goes red. “I was not-”

“Um, you were!” 

They both laugh. Mike notices the way Will’s blush spreads from his neck up to burn red in his cheeks and his eyes wrinkle, the eyes that no matter how blank the boy wanted to be held emotion and exposed something deeper always. As ever Michael Wheeler was intrigued. 

*

Nervously Will taps on his brother's door. He twists the sleeve of his jumper around his thumb, making it go slightly numb. No answer. He knocks again and creaks the door open slowly. 

“Jonathan?” He whispers softly.

The top of his big brothers head is just barely visible from under the sheets, his back faces him. 

“Will, it’s 7am on a Saturday! What do you want?” He grumbles sleepily. 

“I wanted to talk to you before Dad wakes up.” 

Jonathan sits up, his shirt is off and his hair a mess in front of his face. He squints over at Will, tells him to come in and lays back down. 

Will goes over to the stereo where his hands wonder over the records. “Can you take me to the parlour on main street later to meet some friends?” He asks. 

“Why don’t you ask Mom?” 

Will shrugs. “Don't want her to worry. It’s the same kid Dad yelled at me for last Thursday.” He picks up a pile of Jonathan’s photos and sits on the foot of the bed. Shifting through them he thinks for about the millionth time how talented his brother is and how much he deserved to be going to his school too. But his Dad was somehow even tougher with Jonathan when he was Will’s age so his chances got fucked up. He reckons it’s got something to do with Jonathan’s rebellious nature or his way of being comfortable with his weirdness that Will didn’t have that their Dad pushed his cruel expectations harder. In a way it makes Will even more determined to use his place at the school to his best advantage. 

The bed moves slightly as Jonathan sits against the headboard. He stares at the back of Will’s head. “You can’t be scared of him. Friends are friends forget what he thinks. He’s just over exaggerating. What can he do?” Jonathan says confidently.

“You weren’t there, Jonathan. He was really mad. You know how mad he gets.” His little brother says. Jonathan wished Will could be stronger, more confident like he is. Of course he did. However that just wasn’t who Will was and that was fine. Doesn’t mean it didn’t frustrate him to see Will trapped like this and wish that he could be a little different so things were at least easier though.

He slides his feet off the bed and sits beside Will. He too looks at the photos in Will’s hands. A couple moments pass. “Okay, I’ll drive you.” He says, scruffing up Will’s hair. 

Will grins. “Thanks, Jonathan!” He puts the photos back and makes for the door.

“Is this the boy we made that mixtape for?” Jonathan asks before he leaves. 

Will nods. 

Jonathan nods. “He has great music taste. Big bro approves!” 

*

 

“So what is he?” Dustin asks, licking some whipped cream from his straw. 

It’s peak business time in the parlour, chock-full of families and the rabble from the public school. Mike’s group of friends are plunked down in the middle of them, the town gay couples hands intertwined right there on the table. Mike sits with his legs out in aisle, body turned and eyes trained on the door. 

Mike turns away from the door for a second. “What’s what?” He asks. 

He blows bubbles in his milkshake through the straw. “Will. Does he like girls? Boys? Both?” 

Mike finally turns away from the door and brings his feet in under the table. “He isn’t sure yet.” He shrugs. “Why?” 

Lucas laughs. “Oh come on, Mike! You never talk about any of the pretentious fucks from that school. Let alone invite them on our milkshake weekend.” He says like something is completely obvious.

Mike shrugs again nonchalantly.

Dustin and Lucas roll their eyes at each other. Mike never seemed to quite realise what an open book he was to them. 

Dustin continues to blow bubbles in his drink and his boyfriend nudges his shoulder. “Stop that!” He says.

Dustin smiles sweetly and blows the bubbles over the top of the glass, pooling strawberry milkshake onto the table.

Lucas giggles and edges away from him. “You’re gonna get it everywhere!” He snaps. Dustin reaches for his drink too. “No no no no!”

Mike spots a car pull up outside of the parlour and he can distinctly see the outline of Will’s bowl cut and watches him get out. He jumps up out of his seat and runs out of the parlour, coming to a quick stop right in front of Will. “You came!” Mike gasps. He considers hugging him but doesn’t. Will had never actually told him whether he’d be here (and Mike hadn’t wanted to press him for one). He’d just given him roughly the time they’d be there and told him to come if he felt like it. Mike had been looking out for him since they’d arrived. 

Will beams at his excitement. “Hi.” He almost squeaks.

A lanky teenager with hair similar to Will’s but messier gets out of the car and watches them across the roof. Will’s brother Jonathan, he guessed.

“Do you want picking up later? I’ve taken another shift at work.” Jonathan asks. 

“We have bikes! I can give him a ride!” Mike answers, interrupting Will. 

Jonathan nods. “See you later. Have fun, boys.” He walks off.

The two boys smile at each other. 

“You okay?” Mike asks.

“Yeah.” Will says. Although all he felt was nerves. 

The boys nod at each other and Will follows Mike inside. “I’ll get us drinks, we’re sat over there.”

Will finds Dustin with his chin on Lucas’ shoulder and his arm tightly around him. Lucas shakes his head into his glass, muttering something under his breath. 

Will floats there beside the table for a bit. He can hear Dustin whisper “You’re no fun! You’re no fun! You’re no fun!” in Lucas’ ear between cheek kisses.

Lucas pushes him off and nods up to Will. 

Dustin gasps when he notices the small boy watching them then smiles sweetly at him. “Hey, Will!” He says loudly. He kicks out the chair opposite him and Will sits. 

The boy nods and feels his cheeks burn. 

Both the boys smile expectantly at him then share a look and shrug slightly so Will isn’t meant to see. Will gulps, he should be talking! 

“Hey!” He blurts out. 

Lucas chuckles. “Hey.” 

Will blushes and looks at his hands.

Dustin kicks him under the table. “Sorry about him, he’s obnoxious.” He says, Lucas smirking. “I feel like I know you, do you used to go to our school?” 

Will nods and grins. “Yeah, junior year.” He replies quietly. 

Dustin leans further forward on the table to hear him better. “So how’d you get into the art school then?” 

“Uh, talent scouts saw me at an art contest and asked me to come for an interview and I transferred later that year.” He wasn’t there even close enough to leave an impression. It didn’t surprise him that the students had forgotten about him.

“Did you have Mrs Wilson for Math?” He asks.

“I think so?” Will hadn’t liked the school much and had blurred out his time there.

“That’s where I recognise you from!” Dustin nods and grins to himself.

“Is art school much different?” Lucas asks, still sat back into his chair where he was watching his boyfriend and Will. 

Will nods a lot. “Yeah, way better. It’s incredible.” Will brightens up a little thinking about it.

Mike walks over with two of the most sugary large peanut butter milkshakes you’ve ever seen and puts one down in front of Will and sits beside him. 

Lucas tuts. “You got him peanut butter? Mike, seriously? You’ll ruin his taste buds and he won’t wanna hang out with you ever again.” 

Mike frowns at him. “We do not blaspheme in this house!” He snaps. He turns in his seat to Will and edges Will’s shake towards him. “Come on, I wanna experience your first peanut butter milkshake orgasm face!” He sings. 

Will takes a sip and the three other boys wait patiently for his take. “It’s good!” Will tells them.

Mike clicks his fingers and finger guns at Lucas. “Ha!” He taps out a rhythm on the table and sips his drink gleefully. 

Lucas looks between him and Will. “You. Are. Perfect. For. Each. Other.” 

Dustin squeezes the boy's arm and cuddle into his shoulder. “I knew you’d come around, Lukey!” Lucas rolls his eyes and puts his arm around Dustin.

Will’s eyes glow as he watches how they relax into each other, neither boy taking a look around to make sure it was safe to show such an affection to another boy. He thought of himself doing that, his brain filling in the blanks and making it him and Mike. He turns to Mike who had been watching him, obviously unfazed by his two friends.

“I- we were thinking the new series of Star Trek premieres next premieres this Monday and we’re going over to Dustin’s to watch it and it’d be awesome if you could come.” Mike says, excitedly. “We’re going for a supply run now and I’m sure we can get you stuff too.” 

“A supply run?” Will asks.

Lucas snorts. “We’re getting stuff for cosplay and snacks.” He tells him.

“But mostly snacks.” Dustin adds.

“You’ve seen Star Trek right?” Mike asks. 

Will nods. He hadn’t. He never got the chance to watch what he wanted that late at night and Jonathan was never into sci-fi.

“Great! Who’s your favourite from the original series?” Lucas asks, wondering who they could possibly dress Will up as. 

Shit. He was blank. He knew a character had pointy ears? And weird eyebrows? and They all wore different coloured suits? “Uh… The alien?” He tried.

Lucas and Dustin looked confused. 

“You haven’t watched it.” Mike says obviously. 

Will shakes his head. 

Mike smiles and pats his arm. “That’s okay.” He looks to the other two. “The Next Generation looks like an as good place any to start anyways.” 

Dustin’s eyes widen at the thought of it. “The trailer looks insane!” He yells. 

“Maybe we could dress him up as that new kid. Uh… Weston?” Lucas suggests.

“Wesley Crusher!” Mike corrects, bright eyed and a little flustered. “That’d be neat.” 

The three start to talk about the rest of the new characters, about the captains, the klingons, the android. Going on and on, seemingly detached from everything else. Will sits back quietly, taking it all in and drinking his milkshake which was good by the way, not exactly ‘cup of feels’ worthy like Mike described but good. He watches Mike talk. He keeps the straw in his mouth as he speaks, bitten between his teeth, the corner of his lips curve up a bit in excitement, the talk-so-much-shit-all-at-once way he had at it’s peak. Will finds the corners of his mouth twitching up too. A night watching Star Trek with Dustin and Lucas, with Mike, sounded great to him, whether he could do it he didn’t know but wanted to try. 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Lucas watching him, still staring at Mike and he shyly looks him in the eye. Lucas winks at him and looks at Mike then back at Will as if asking ‘what gives?’. Will shrugs back. Lucas returns his shrug and Will silently laughs.

Lucas’ gaze skirts past Will and turns dead. “Troy’s coming.” He says under his breath. 

The two other boys cease talking immediately and Dustin sits up and pulls away from Lucas, almost off his chair. Will turns and sees a short beefy boy walking across the street to the parlour. 

Mike turns back to his two breathless friends. “Let’s go.” He whispers. 

The four boys jump up and make for the door as quickly as they can, Lucas and Dustin in front. Will doesn’t know what’s going on or who Troy was but Mike had the look of a guy with a mission in his mind and Dustin was slowly turning purple so he got the gist they needed to leave really quick. They get to the door just as Troy does and Lucas and Dustin don’t even look at him, they just go straight forward. Troy sneers at this and Mike puts a hand on Will’s shoulder and pushes him forward. 

“Is it time for the faggot train to depart?” Troy hollers after them. 

Mike stops dead in his tracks and Will looks up and sees Dustin and Lucas already across the road and signalling no to their friend. 

Mike shakes his head angrily and turns back to Troy. “Yeah,” He says cockily. “CHOO CHOO MOTHERFUCKER!” He yells at him. 

He snatches Will’s hand and tugs across the road and a horn blares at them. The man in the front seat of the truck yells at them but the boys are already darting down the street and through a back alley into the parking lot behind the town's general store. All four boys double over in laughter, Mike and Will wheezing for breath. 

“Did you see the look on his face? We’ve never talked back to him like that. We’re gonna feel that Monday at school, babe.” Lucas gasped between giggles. 

Dustin tangles their hands together. “Totally worth it.” He kisses him on the lips. 

Mike and Will lock eyes, Mike looking particularly smug. They notice they’re still joint by their hands. Mike squeezes his fingers before letting go. Will turns his back to him, hiding a blush. 

Mike pushes Lucas by the shoulders away from his boyfriend. “Come on, let’s get going before him and his cronies catch up.” He pushes him ahead as the group leave the parking lot.

“He’s cute.” Lucas says. 

Mike nods. “Hella.” 

“Hella?” 

“Hella cute.”

Lucas laughs. “Good luck, my friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you like this update! thank you so so damn much for all the kudos and comments. i’m so glad you’re liking it as personally i think it’s the best thing i’ve ever written on here. 
> 
> just a note: the ages here are really upto you however i do think of them as teenagers of about 15-18. 
> 
> hope you liked the jonathan and lucas/dustin parts! i’ve never written lustin before and i’m not even a huge shipper so i’m not sure how they turned out. 
> 
> lemme know what you think in the comments, those are much appreciated! :)) 
> 
> SEASON 2 IN 4 DAYS NOW!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, sorry this is short! i just wanted to update cause it’s been a while. 
> 
> this one goes out to all the new byler shippers that have come along since season 2 cause daaaamn we were served well. 
> 
> as ever hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Mike floats near the library's blue double doors that go out into the hallway practically bouncing on the heels of his feet. “Come, we’ve gotta get going!” He begs Will, clasping his hands dramatically. 

Will shrugs and continues scribbling down information about Claude Monet in his notebook. Their assignment is in on Friday and he and Mike still have to finish their final pieces and research. Will doubted Mike had actually done any of his part either.

Mike trudges over and sits on the edge of the desk. “Will, we’ve got costumes to prepare! We can do that at my house.” He tells him.

Will rolls his eyes. “At your house? Where your toys and comics are there to distract you? I know you, Mike.” He tuts. 

Mike ruffles Will’s hair. “Stop being so standoffish with me, William.” He sings. He kneels beside the table and puts his chin on the desk on top of his hands, looking into Will’s eyes as the smaller boy looks intensely at his work. “I’ll let you keep ahold of my walkman until I finish it so I don’t get distracted.” He whispers.

Will looks at him and shakes his head. “Fine.” He says, closing up his notebook, folds up his papers and puts them in his bag.

Mike unclips the walkman from his belt and passes it hesitantly to Will. “And yeah, I brought one of your tapes!” He presents a The Clash cassette tape from his pocket. The two had gone to the music store on Saturday after they’d finished the supply run with Dustin and Lucas and bought a bunch of tapes from artists Will likes so that Mike had them on hand for their study sessions. And well, he wanted to get to know Will’s music taste. “That’s the best way to get to know people.” He had said. Will had tried his hardest to resist, he thought it silly that Mike would spend money on him when they’ve only truly known each other for a week. But Mike shrugged it off, he had loads of his pocket money to spare. Mike had truly lit up in that shop, darting from aisle to aisle, not being able to stop looking at stuff and not wanting to stop. 

Mike puts his arm around Will and steers him towards the door and out into the hall. “You are such a good influence on me. My Mom’s gonna love you!” He tells him.

Will puts tape into the walkman and the headphones on and clicks play, the start of ‘Should I Stay Or Should I Go?’ kicking in. He turns the volume down just enough so he can still hear Mike babbling. 

As the two walk through the Cafeteria they pass the popular kids Mike used to hang around with who are sitting around chatting. Adrian Blake, award winning portrait artist and hot headed lead of the group nods as they pass and Mike nods cooley back. Samantha, a fashion student, looks Will up and down snootily as they pass and arches her eyebrows at Mike. Mike nods back knowingly. 

Mike and Will pass through the double doors into the fading sunlight and walk over to the bike sheds.

“Is it definitely safe for you to come tonight?” Mike asks as he unlocks his bike and gets on it.

Will nods, lost in the music for a second. “Yeah, definitely. Umm, Jonathan told Dad I have baseball practice and a teammates invited me over after.” He replies and hops on the back of the bike.

Mike chuckles. “You at baseball practice? and He actually believed that?” He kicks off and rides towards the gates.

Will taps him on the shoulder lightly and holds tightly onto him. They shoot through the gates.

They glide into a cul de sac, Will gripping even tighter around Mike’s waist as they went over each bump down Mike’s driveway and let themselves in through his garage. 

“Hey.” Mike greets his Mom as they walk into the kitchen. The inside of the kitchen is equipped to the highest quality, every surface scrubbed to shine. Will imagined his mom would have a hell of a time in here. Karen’s facing away from them putting away groceries. 

Mike takes Will’s arm and pulls him towards the stairs. 

“Michael, you’re a little late home don’t you think you should do the dishes and get the basement ready for tonight before running off?” Karen calls after her son demandingly. 

“Will’s here.” Mike replies carelessly, ushering Will upstairs quicker.

“Oh,” Karen gasps, she rushes over to the bottom of the staircase to try catch them but Mike has already slammed his door shut. “Hi, Will. Nice to see you again!” She shouts up.

Mike’s small room is largely taken up by a bookcase stuffed full of school books, comics and binders and on top of that are stacks and stacks of cassette tapes, some having spilled out onto the floor, on top of his dresser and bed sheets. Mike struggles to squeeze a thin pile of comic books out from between two large school books and hands them to Will. He shifts through them, there are a couple of Batman ones and a lot of Star Trek. 

Mike taps the cover of one of the Star Trek ones. “I figured you’d like some background reading since your joining our Star Trek nights now.” He says.

Will feels his throat clench and he clicks pause on the walkman and hands it back to Mike. “You can’t keep buying me things, Mike.” He sadly tells him, his voice is barely a whisper. “I can’t-“

“I know you can’t buy me stuff. It’s cool, don’t worry. I thought you’d like the art and they’re only like 50 cents. And well, it’s not like I actually bought them for you anyways. They’re my old ones. It’s cool, seriously.” He tells the boy, watching him ever so closely. 

He throws the walkman on the bed and stands in front of Will as the smaller boy flicks through the comics. Will lands on a page of the Enterprise suspended above a pastel red planet. Mike runs his finger along the slippery surface of the hull of the ship and then onto Will’s thumb which he strokes carefully with his finger tip. 

The two look at themselves in Mike’s mirror. Mike’s cheeks glimmer a little crimson making the freckles highlighting his strong cheekbones stand out a bit more. His eyebrows are creased together and that’s really soft to Will. Really? His eyebrows? Will’s hair is still windswept from the bike ride over here making his bowl cut more pushed back and messier. A defined jaw guards softer features and wide eyes that despite their fast gaining age are still like a childs. 

Will throws the comics onto the bed with the walkman, their fingers remaining touched and Mike gaining more of a grip on him. Will reaches his hand up to fix his hair. Although he hated his bowl cut and should’ve probably gone for a style change when he went far past 13 he hadn’t since it did do a good job of hiding his bad case of teenage acne on his forehead which he hated more than the bowl cut. 

Mike shakes his head. “Don’t. It’s cute like this.” He tells him. “I mean, coconut heads cute too.”

Will giggles. “Coconut head?”

Mike’s hand drifts into Will’s fully and they clutch together and the two boys look away from the mirror and at each other’s eyes instead. Mike bobs his head down a little and moves closer. Will’s breath hitches like on the road that night just a week ago but this time it’s like his heart beats ten times faster and he can feel it. And now he thinks he knows what it is. 

Will points past Mike’s head to the blue lipped portrait of Will that he drew in class the day they became partners pinned up above his bed. “Bunch of pansies, huh?” Will whispers, his voice catches in the back of his throat. “We’re two pansies.” He smiled saying it out loud.

Mike laughed and nodded. “Definitely.” He whispers back, caressing Will’s cheek where his eyes were starting to swell with tears. 

Will loves Mike. Perhaps that’s a bit of a stupid statement since he’s only really known him for not even a week but for now at least he loves him. That was the only word he could put onto the feeling his hair gave him or his freckles, his passion for music, his open heart or the constant shittalking and the way he felt more open, safer and to be honest shittalked around him. Will loves him. Whether that made him the fag his father didn’t want him to be he didn’t care.


	6. Chapter 6

Mike, Lucas and Dustin jump up from their seats as planets begin to glide onto the screen and look at each other drastically and grip onto each other’s arms. “Space: the final frontier.” The three boom along with the voice on screen.

 

Will smiles from the couch and feels the length of the red, gold and blue tape the boys had stuck onto his grey jumper to look like the character from the show. He didn’t really understand its significance but Mike seemed to be impressed. Mike is wearing a red Starfleet uniform which is a little too short for him and he has to keep tugging the sleeves down. Lucas has a red uniform too and a headband over his eyes which is supposed to be like a visor but just makes him look sorta stupid. Dustin’s mom takes this cosplay stuff a little seriously and has gone all out with his costume, he has been painted silver all over his face, neck and hands, some of the paint unfortunately rubbed off and got on the pants of his golden uniform. They’ve completely taken over the whole of the basement, laying pillows and blankets on the floor, the table is covered in snacks and Mike and Lucas have brought in Lucas’ TV from across the road. 

 

The titles glide on and off the screen and the first scene fades in as Mike sits down beside Will. “This is going to be great!” He says, excitedly and pats Will on the leg. 

 

Will nods and smiles. It was kinda adorable how excited the other boys got over this show and Will was excited to see something Mike was so passionate about. 

 

As the first half finishes Karen comes in to check on them, refills their drinks and asks if they’re enjoying it to which Mike, Lucas and Dustin are very enthusiastic. According to them this show was very high up on the ‘Star Trek Approved Quality-O-Meter’ as Dustin put it. 

 

Mike clasps both his hands under his chin, “How are you liking it?” He asks Will curiously. 

 

Will widens his eyes at him and smirks and takes a long pause before replying “Great! It’s great.” 

 

“Yes! See? It’s awesome, right? I knew you’d like it.” He says smugly. 

 

“Yeah. Data is so funny!” Will says, referring to the simple-minded android from the show which Dustin is dressed as. 

 

“That is affirmative, sir.” Dustin butts in, making a robotic voice. 

 

Lucas shakes his head. “No, no. His voice is less robotic more smooth like ‘That is affirmative, sir.’” He sits up straight and wide eyed like the character. 

 

The four boys giggle at this. 

 

Mike watches Will warmly and puts his hand in his tightly to which both beam at each other. 

 

Lucas and Dustin share a look like they were silently encouraging each other. Lucas rolls his eyes and leads. “So, Will Riker,” The character Mike is dressed as. “He is smooth! Wow! Like the kind of guy my mom would have a crush on. You really think you can match that, Wheeler? I mean he’s pretty hot.” 

 

Dustin nods in agreement and smiles to himself at the thought of the Enterprises first officer. Mike is about to open his mouth when he looks at Will for a second that Dustin picks up on. 

 

The curly haired boy slams his fist on his knee. “Ah-ha!” he exclaims. “That was a look. There’s something going on. Something happened didn’t it?” He asks demandingly. 

 

The two boys gulp and stumble over their words, both blushing very red but Mike the most. In the end up Mike just nods and puts his arm around Will and pulls him closer. 

 

“I knew it!” Dustin yells, his voice cracking on the last word. He turns to Lucas for a high five but Lucas sighs and looks away from him and coughs up a five dollar bill. 

 

“What?” Mike squeaks. “You had a bet?” 

 

“You bet your ass we did.” Dustin says, grinning and triumphantly presenting his prize to the other three. 

 

“And you voted against me, Lucas? Come on, man!”

 

Lucas shrugs. “Your past record doesn’t really agree with you.” 

 

Dustin nods. “Yep, you ain’t really the most charming person when it comes to boys... or girls for that matter. Alas, I had faith in you, my good friend.” 

 

Mike makes a disgruntled sigh. 

 

Will laughs. “Mike Wheeler is bad at flirting?” He asked, shocked since Mike had quite easily worked his way into his heart.

 

“Oh yeah, he’s a mess. It’s a surprise he eventually got somewhere. He’s just had that one girlfriend when we were 12.” Dustin nudges Mike playfully. “Remember that?”

 

Mike cringes. “Can you stop insulting my charisma in front of my boyfriend now?” He asks. 

 

That hung in the air for a while, leaving silence in its wake. Mike and Will hadn’t gotten to the boyfriend talk yet. 

 

Will watched Mike closely. Were they boyfriends now? Will quite liked the idea but that talk would come. Mike began stroking the back of Will's hand with his thumb and Will rests his head on Mike’s shoulder. 

 

“So, what do we call you?” 

 

“Call us?” Mike asks, nuzzling his nose into the top of Will’s head happily. 

 

“Like a ship name. What about Wike?” Dustin suggests. 

 

Mike laughs at that. “That sounds like some kind of sickness!” 

 

Dustin rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright. What about Mill? No, no. That doesn’t sound right.” He drifts off into deep thought. 

 

“What about Byeler?” Lucas says.

 

Dustin's jaw drops. “That’s perfect! How do you spell that? B-Y-L-E-R?”

 

Lucas tuts and shakes his head. “No way. B-Y-E-L-E-R.”

 

“That’s ugly! So ugly! Byler sounds soft and pretty.” Dustin snaps back.

 

“They both sound the exact same.” Will says. 

 

“No, Will. Byeler makes way more sense. Byler is only two letters away from just being Will’s last name!” Dustin and Lucas straighten up and look each other in the eye daringly. 

 

“Like adding an extra E makes much difference!” 

 

“Oh it makes it so much different.”

 

“Oh yeah? Just makes it uglier like your stupid face!”

 

“Hey, hey.” Mike breaks them up. “It doesn’t matter call it what you want.” 

 

The second half of the show starts and both couples lay back into each other and relax again. In this second half Wesley Crusher, the character Will is dressed as is introduced and all the boys immediately become quite taken with him. Will especially, taking to ooh-ing and awh-ing at just about anything he did. 

 

When the show has finished Dustin and Lucas take down the TV together and begin to wheel it out of the door before a Dustin remembered something. He slings the his backpack off his shoulders and onto the coffee table. “I got it.” He tells Mike and Lucas knowingly. 

 

The three share a look and Mike nods from where he’s sat on the couch with Will practically in his lap looking at him confused. 

 

Dustin takes out a Supercom walkie talkie and puts it on the table amongst the leftover snacks and drinks. “It’s for you.” Dustin tells Will. 

 

Will fumbles over his words looking around the group, the way each of them beamed at the boy you could tell this was significant. 

 

Mike gives Will a tiny smile and whispers “Don’t worry. Not just another gift from me, we all pitched in.” 

 

“Everyone in our party has one.” Lucas explains. “We used them more when we were younger and biked around and shit but now we mostly use them to communicate back and forth between our houses.” 

 

Dustin nods. “They’re real cool! There’s a little booklet inside that shows you how to work it.” 

 

Will picks up the Supercom and feels it’s weight. “I…” He starts. He didn’t have words. There’s group he’s part of now? And he could talk to Mike through this thing whenever he wanted? “Thank you.” He croaks. 

 

Dustin winks at him. “No problem!”

 

“Welcome to the party, Will.” Mike says, kissing the boy on the forehead. 

 

Dustin puts his backpack back on and joins Lucas by the door. The two say goodbye and push the TV through the door and it swings shut behind them. 

 

Will rips his Supercom out of it’s packaging and feels the buttons. He extends the antenna and speaks into it. “Sergeant Wheeler, permission to deploy the gay, sir? Over.” He says, lowering his voice into a deep ‘macho’ voice and looking Mike straight in the eye. 

 

Mike chuckles and stares adoringly at him. “Permission granted, Cadet Byers. Over.” 

 

“Affirmative, sir. Co-ordinates locked on the Wheeler’s basement. Engage.” 

 

Mike takes out his walkman from under the table and clicks it and the opening guitar plucks of Elvis’s  _ Love Me Tender  _ play out of the small speaker and Mike lowly hums along. 

 

“There’s a party?” Will asks.

 

Mike smiled shyly. “It’s just a DnD thing.” 

 

“That makes sense for you guys on so many levels.” Will says. He remembers fondly the old Dungeons and Dragons t-shirt he’d worn the day they became partners. 

 

Mike intertwined his fingers with Will’s and lays his head back on the couch cushion. Will let’s his head fall onto the other boys chest. 

 

“I should get back,” Will ponders allowed. “there’s school in the morning and my Dad will be wondering where I’ve gotten to.”

 

Mike rubs his eye with his free hand and groans. “Shit, school.” He says under his breath.

 

Will giggles. “Don't tell me you forgot there’s school tomorrow. That’s a bit dramatic, even for you.” 

 

Mike shakes his head. “It’s just a hard time this year, isn’t it? Things are getting serious.”

 

They were. Will’s assignments were piling up day by day and getting harder and harder, he was beginning to be forced to branch out to art styles which he hadn’t even heard of and he didn’t like being thrown off with no experience on the subject. It meant he didn’t have the upper hand for once. 

 

“Shit!” Mike stammers. He lets Will’s hand go and his hand joins his other, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “I totally forgot about that fucking assignment for Thompson that’s due tomorrow.”

 

Will squeezes his knee. “Mike, he assigned that months ago. I did it-”

 

“Of course you have!” He snapped, looking at him sorrowfully a second later. “You’re great at all this stuff. But me? I don’t know how to do fucking pottery. Or painting or sketching.” 

 

Will stops him rubbing and takes his hand in his own. “Of course you are, that’s why you got it. And you love it don’t you?” 

 

Mike’s eyes are red and full when he looks into Wills. “No. It’s just- it’s frustrating, Will. I’ve got all these assignments and our projects and then fucking Math and advanced English.” 

 

“What do you mean you don’t like it?” Will asks, confused. 

 

“It was never my idea to go to this school, it was some idea my Mom got cause I was real good at drawing cartoons as a kid and she thought it’d be perfect for me to be an artist. She didn’t ask what I thought.” His voice broke and he sniffed back a sob. 

 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Will whispers, he holds one of Mike’s cheeks in his hand and strokes the skin with his thumb. 

 

“I like music but that’s a stupid dream.” His voice is rattly and choked. Mike’s starting to cry now and Will’s scooching closer to him and his free hand brushes his hair out of his face. 

 

“That’s not ridiculous, you’ve said a lot of ridiculous things but that isn’t.” It actually made complete sense to Will now and he found himself at a loss for words as he watched tears roll down Mike’s cheeks and kept combing his hair through his fingers over and over again. Will thought a lot about conversations. He’d thought out many with MIke, like the let’s come out talk, the moving in together talk, the sex talk and other stupid things which were silly for him to be thinking about this early on but this wasn’t one of the conversations he prepared. He decided on Mike’s initiative. Say whatever came to mind.

 

“You’re a good singer, Mike and you have such a clear passion. You’re not a good dance but I mean who is right?” Mike chuckled. “Tell you what Jonathan works at that music store I’m sure he could get you a weekend job or something. He learnt guitar when he was younger too, just the basics, he’s better at photography, but I’m sure he’d teach you. And you could ask the manager at the store for pointers.”

 

Mike nods and smiles timidly. 

 

“Just hold out for one more year, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

 

Will hugs Mike around his neck and he feels Mike nuzzle his face into his neck. 

 

Mike takes a long fresh breathe. “We should get you home.” He says, voice still scratchy. He stands and turns away from Will to wipe his eyes.

 

The two leave the house together and hop on Mike’s bike. As Will holds Mike tight as they ride through Hawkins he starts to see him differently. He thought Mike was someone silly, someone who was full of light which he handed out generously to those around him, giving perhaps a bit of an extra special dose to Will he liked to think. He’d thought of Mike to be from this good life which his dad had told him about, a life where people like them were accepted, his parents cared and he had a big shiny house which a nice kitchen and a Mom who came and checked her son was enjoying his show and brought drinks and snacks. But she was too much. Mike’s Mom was eating away at Mike’s life like Will’s Dad was eating away at his. 

 

They skidded to a stop at the end of the dirt road which turned off onto the Byers property and Will got off. They stare at each other for a while, knowing someone had to say goodbye but neither wanted to say it first. The whole situation was unfair. 

 

“Are we boyfriends now?” Will eventually asked whilst playing with his zipper. 

 

“Oh...” Mike laughs, thinking back to his slip up earlier that evening. “Maybe if you ask me.” He grinned cheekily. 

 

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Will asks, grinning back.

 

“ _ Will  _ you be my boyfriend.” Mike chuckles.

 

“Shut up, Wheeler.”

 

“Yes. I will.” 

 

They both beam childishly at each other there in the rapidly fading moonlight, only able to see each other by the small headlight on Mike’s bike. 

 

“See you later.” Will said, walking off. 

 

“Wait for me at school tomorrow. We’ll talk more about that job, boyfriend.” 

 

He watches him go, hands in his pockets and singing a slow tune to himself. 

 

“ _ Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfilled. For my darling I love you and I always will.”  _

 

A song he now knew and loved because of Mike and a song both of them finally felt.

 

Mike dropped his bike and ran to him. He swung Will around and took his face in his hands and brought his lips to his. It’s short,, dear, sweet,  _ tender _ . It was worth everything before it and everything that was to come. 

 

*

 

Mike waited and waited for Will the next day at school but he never showed up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> firstly as i ALWAYS say sorry its being so long since an update!
> 
> secondly, IM SO SORRY! 
> 
> i know. i feel like a bitch. and i mean we know my messy record but i'll try to make it not too long until an update to make it up to you! 
> 
> but i mean it finally happened so give me that at least... no?? well i enjoyed writing it whilst listening to love me tender at 4am. 
> 
> i also wanna take this opportunity to thank you for all the love on this fic! its one of my proudest works and it makes me so happy to read every comment and see the kudos go up and up. 
> 
> okay again pls dont hate me. leave a comment and you can see me @thebyersfamiiy on twitter :)) <33


	7. Chapter 7

Mike stretches his neck over the crowd coming out of Will’s morning Biology class. Nope, he wasn’t there. He leans against the lockers and watches the rest of the class file out. He’d been playing last night over and over in his head all first period. Did the emotions scare him? Was the kiss too soon? Was it bad? Mike shaked his head at himself. It could be anything! Anything. And he was overthinking every bit. 

 

He races off to Norton’s class, getting there before the rest of their class. Norton is looking through some student’s sketches at his desk alone. 

 

“Hey, sir.” Mike greeted, approaching his desk. 

 

“Good Morning, Mike. No Will today?” Norton asks. 

 

Mike shrugs. They usually walked to Norton’s class together. “Haven’t you heard anything?” 

 

Norton shakes his head. “You’ve gotten quite close haven’t you?” He asks. 

 

He shrugs again. Oh, Norton had no idea how close. “It’s just the art project is due to be presented tomorrow and there’s not much I can do. He’s 80% of the brains.” He answers.

 

Norton smiles. “Don’t doubt yourself. You’ve gotten better at your theory tasks since you’ve been partnered with him, I think you’ll ace it.” He says, looking into his students eyes sincerely. 

  
  


The truth was he’d being getting better because Will loved to talk about art so much, and Mike loved to listen to him talk about anything, he was being constantly fed information. 

 

“I’m sure he’ll be back tomorrow.” He tells Norton. He takes his and Will’s table at the back. 

 

A part of him wasn’t even sightly sure. 

 

*

 

Mike paced from one end of his bedroom to the other, supercom in hand and hair a mess. His assignment for Thompson laid unfinished on his desk. Thankfully Thompson pitied him and gave him an extended deadline. But that didn’t have his attention right now.

 

“Are you sure there was nothing? Even tiny things, Dustin. Did he seem sick to you?” He spoke into the walkie talkie, scratching the back of his neck for about the 100th time. 

 

“No, he looked fine. Look, it was a good night. You said you kissed and he kissed back didn’t he? Over.” Dustin’s voice crackles back. 

 

“He did. Only a little but he did. Over.” He said. 

 

The Supercom crackles back and there’s sound of the walkie talkie being passed to someone else as the sound cuts out and comes back in a second later. “Why don’t you just call him Mike?” Lucas asks. 

 

“I don’t wanna seem like I’m freaking out.”  Mike whines, collapsing on his bed.

 

Dustin chuckles through the speaker. “You are freaking out.”  

 

“I’m aware of that Dustin!” Mike yells. How couldn’t he be? He kissed his boyfriend for the first time, cried, let all of himself out and now he was gone.  “Over and out.” He switches off the walkie talkie. He shuffles around and nestled the pillow under his head. 

 

He should just call. But every bone in his body told him that’d go wrong. Especially in a state where Dustin knew he was freaking out. He’d call in the morning if he still thought it was a good idea. Mike gets under the covers and picks up his walkman from the floor beside his bed and clicks skip a couple times until it plays Teddy Bear. By Elvis. Of course. 

 

_ I don't want to be your tiger _

 

_ 'Cause tigers play too rough _

 

_ I don't want to be your lion _

 

_ 'Cause lions ain't the kind you love enough _

 

He could still remember Will’s lips on his and the way his stomach tug, it had almost scared him. A scare he could get addicted to. 

 

_ I just want to be, your teddy bear _

 

_ Put a chain around my neck and lead me anywhere _

 

_ Oh let me be (oh let him be) _

 

_ Your teddy bear _

 

*

  
  


“Coming, Mom!” Mike yelled downstairs before turning back to the walkie talkie in his hand and fumbling with the antenna and trying to decide whether he should extend it or not. 

 

It’d be sensible wouldn’t it? Considering this was the hand in date for their  _ duo _ project. Will needed to be there, he’d understand that. This school meant a shit ton to him. He tells himself that’s why he turns it on and begins to speak. Totally not because he was terrified that he’d fucked up the one consistently good thing he’s got. 

 

“Will? Will, are you there? Respond if you can hear me, Over.” He listens. Waiting.

 

Waiting. And Waiting.

 

This was so stupid! He probably just had the flu or something. He puts the walkie talkie on his desk and heads for the door. 

 

But before he gets there it crackles to life. 

 

“Hey, Mike.” Will’s voice rings out. 

 

Mike runs back to his desk and snatches it up. “Will!” He composes himself. “Hey. Where were you at school? It’s Wednesday. Our projects due.”

 

He hears a long sigh from the other end. “Will?” Mike calls to him, warily. 

 

“My Dad left and my Mom’s broken down.” The boy says, empty of emotion. It had been a long night and the fact had sunken too far in. 

 

Mike tightens his grip on the walkie talkie on impulse and suddenly all he feels is rage. “I’ll be over in 10 minutes.” He tells Will. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! 
> 
> look at me not taking months to update! i actually finished this the day after posting the last one but decided to drag it out a little while longer without you guys knowing what happened. sorry its short but it's a necessary chapter cause i love drama and suspense lmao
> 
> it was weird writing completely from mikes pov as well cause its really not my comfort zone like will is my guy lol. 
> 
>  
> 
> lemme know what you think! <33


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uuuh heads up there’s abuse in this one. nothing that goes into huge detail but i thought i’d point it out just to make sure

Mike gently tapped on the door. His heart hadn’t stopped thumping it’s way up his throat the whole ride over here. Standing on the Byers porch waiting for an answer he attempted to calm it if only a little. He tried to think of the bright side of this, this meant he and Will could always be together now, no hiding. He ended up shaking his head at himself, that was just selfish to think that. Will’s life had just changed forever.

Will himself answered the door. Mike smiled at him, his whole body relaxing as well and taking a long intake of breath. There he was. Albeit he was a mess. His fringe was stuck up and bulging bags were forming under his bloodshot eyes and his nose shone red. But he was Will.

Will poked his head back inside and nodded then stepped out onto the porch and shut the door behind himself. He shuffled his feet together and stuffed his hands in the moth-eaten, maroon coloured David Bowie hoodie he was wearing. It was Jonathan’s.

Mike stepped towards him. The other boy hadn’t looked directly at him much since stepping out onto the porch. He lifted up Will’s chin and brought his lips to his, a way of greeting, hoping he was reminded that with him he could say or do whatever he wanted. He reaches for Will’s hand through the hoodie pocket and Will brings it out and lets Mike hold his fingers in his palm.

Will let out a paranoid breath he’d being holding in for a long time. His hoodie sleeve had ridden up in taking it out of his pocket and Mike could now see four distinct circular bruises imprinted across his forearm and further down in his palm was a small red burn mark.

“Will…” Mike whispered, unsure of what to say for once. He delicately curved his hand around Will’s arm and ran his thumb over the bruises affectionately.

Will gritted his teeth, Mike let go at that. He went down to the bottom of the porch and sat on the worn porch swing. He swung on it twice and stared out across his lawn before coming to a stop.

He patted the spot next to him. “Sit down, Mike.” He said, his voice sore.

Mike sat beside where Will’s wounded hand laid palm up on his knee. The burn mark was long like something had being dragged across the skin. Mike cover it with his hand.

Will took a deep breath and yawned. He rubbed his eye and looked up at the inside of his family’s porch roof. “Okay, so…” He began.

*

Will felt like he was walking amongst the stars. That kiss breathless, monumental and most importantly, he thought, it felt normal. Normal had become a rare thing as Will’s life got crazier, his Dad getting worse, everything else catching up with him and on top of that finding who he was in all of it. But Mike felt normal, fresh, gentle but rough when it needed to be. That’s why Will can’t help it when he comes bouncing into his house and almost sings a hey to his Mom on the couch and goes straight past his Dad without even looking at him. His Dad didn’t get that, not today, this was his day!

“How was baseball practice?” Lonnie grumbles after him, his voice raspy through the smoke from where he sat with a _cigarette_ , alone in their kitchen.

Will stopped mid stride for his room and slowly walked back to him. _Shit_ , he thought, _couldn’t he get one day off?_

“Yeah, yeah. It was good.” Will replied, keeping his upbeat tone as he filled up a glass of water and hopped up on the counter facing his dad.

Lonnie’s bloodshot eyes lingered up and down his son, stopping to glare at his chest. Will looks down. Of course, he forgot to take off the stupid Star Trek tape. He rips it off and screws it into a ball and throws it to the side.

“Where did baseball come from then?” Lonnie questions, actually chuckling.

Will shrugs. “I thought it’d be cool.”

“Cool?”

“Yeah. I wanted to meet some guys.” _Just fucking believe me, fucking believe me,_ he thought.

Lonnie’s cigarette had burnt out and he looked at it in disappointment before lighting another. He then looked at his son with just as little approval and began to laugh. Not just a casual chuckle like before, this laugh was mechanical, sombre, it put Will on edge. It was the sound of someone who had just backed their scared prey into a corner.

Will took a big gulp of water. He felt meteors come crashing through the field of stars he was walking through.

“Why are you lying to me, Will?” Lonnie asked. “Cause Ben from the garage his son is on the baseball team and he says practice is on Saturdays.”

Will set his glass aside and jumps down from the counter, he carefully makes his way around the table. “I- I got the days mixed up.” He stutters, it was no use.

“Why are you still lying to me?”

Will stays quiet and just merely shakes his head and turns to try to leave again.

“We’re not done yet, don’t pussy out.” Lonnie shakes his head and stands and spins Will back around by the shoulder. “George, you know George right? The delivery man from around town. He swears he saw you running right across main street holding with someone. Guess who, Will. Guess who.”

He knew who. It was over now, there was no worming out of that. He was in deep shit.

“No guesses?” Lonnie gloated, very pleased with himself. “You’re grounded for two weeks, how about that? And may I remind you you are to go nowhere near that boy.”

“Okay.” Will said solemnly.

Of course even normal wouldn’t work out for him. He couldn’t do this, he’d have to tell Mike tomorrow. He looks to his Mom as he leaves, half of her face is hidden in the top of her jacket and she’s trying not to look at them. He couldn’t blame her, Joyce was scared too.

He’d gotten to his door when Lonnie yelled at him again. “Since you’re just fine with that what about three weeks? I want to know what happened.”

Will stopped with his hand on the door handle, he could hear music from his brothers room from here. His Dad just never had enough, he kept on sucking out the joy. That’s what Mike, Lucas and Dustin were, they were joy and why should he shy away from that? If he kept doing this, letting his Dad control him, that joy would surely be sucked right out. Like Jonathan said he shouldn’t be scared. Besides what could he ever do to his own son right?

Will turned on his heel and bounded back down the hall, heading straight for his Dad. “What do you want me to say Dad? Yes, I was with Mike. So fucking what?” He says, stopping face to face with Lonnie. “I’m fucking Mike Wheeler to spite you behind your back is that what you want to here?”

Lonnie’s eyes widen like they’re about to burst. He points the cigarette, still lit, dangerously close to Will’s face. “You do not get to talk to me like that you disgusting little queer!” He growls down at him, continuing to wave the hot stick of nicotine.

Joyce stands now and yells across the room at Lonnie. “I told you do not wave that at him like that, Lonnie!” Lonnie just dismisses her and continues waving it.

But Will edges closer cocking his eyebrow with a lot more nerve than he actually has. “What’re you gonna do? Put it out on me? I don’t think you have the knack.” He almost growls back. It was true. Despite how much he yelled and threatened him Lonnie had never physically hurt Will before, he’d seen that enough on his brother though.

For a moment Will thinks he’s mistaken the look on Lonnie’s face because he’s taken aback and he lowers the cigarette and backs away. But then his face starts to glow red and his jaw clenches and his fists shake.

Will walks away again and this time Lonnie snatches his arm and drags him back.

“Where the fuck did I go wrong?” Lonnie spits at him, raising the cigarette again. “I can still fix you.”

Will winced. “Dad, let go, you’re hurting me…” He gasped.

All he can feel is Lonnie’s grip on him then tiny fingers trying to pry them off and he can see him Mom between them screaming, her face flushed, not knowing whether to look at her boy or her monster of a husband. He keeps watching her, her furious eyes scowling ahead. She was beautiful, his Mom. He remembered all her high school photographs and how she looked like she hadn’t aged a bit and Jonathan told him he looked like her. He hoped more than anything he did and he would continued to age well just like her. He hears feet come slamming down the hall and Jonathan pushes Lonnie away from him but Will can still feel it, his vice like grip aching along his arm, no matter how much his Mom nestles his head into her neck and soothes it.

  
And Will realises he’s crying now as he hugs into his mother and she’s still screaming at Lonnie over Jonathan’s shoulder.

“LEAVE! I DON’T WANNA SEE YOU ANYWHERE NEAR HIM LONNIE!” Joyce shouts, taking sharp intakes of breath between words.

Lonnie’s now leaning against the kitchen counter with Jonathan between him and Will and Joyce. He scoffs at her. “Don’t be ridiculous, Joyce. You wouldn’t last a-”

“NO! You need to get out!” Joyce lurches forward then but Jonathan puts an arm out in her path to stop her. She still tries to throw her hands at him.

“Let’s not do this now, Mom. Think of Will.” Jonathan tells her whilst still glaring at his Dad.

Will snaps back into the moment at the mention of his name. He’d completely zoned out, still looking at the space where his Mom had been. He could only describe everything his felt, in his head and body, as surreal.

He latches his gaze onto Jonathan’s kind eyes as his squeezed his shoulder and put his arm around him and guided him towards the bathroom.

“Jonathan?” He said, surprised at the faint squeak that was his voice.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Jonathan told him, squeezing his shoulder again but unsure of his words. He’d heard all the worst of it over his music in his room.

He closed the toilet seat and sat Will down on top of it. He got out a cloth from the bathroom cabinet and ran it under the cold faucet. Carefully, he applied it to Will’s hand to which Will hissed.

Will looked down and say a bright red burn mark that Jonathan was dabbing. He didn’t recall that at all. Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His tear stained face was accompanied by two long pink scratch marks on his cheek and his pulled up jumper sleeve showed four fast purpling bruises. His arm had dulled out everything else and now he felt it all at once, the sting in his palm, the heat in his face. He was left so worn.

“Jonathan, I…” He starts, unsure of how he wanted to go on.

Jonathan keeps dabbing his palm and the cold starts to make his arm feel less numb which steadied his brain a little.

“I did what you told me.” He was crying again now, his words coming out a strangled, snotty, sob. “I stood up to him… I must’ve done it wrong.”

Jonathan shakes his head. “No, no, Bud. You did great.” They could still hear their parents shouting through the tiles. He handed him the cloth and placed his hand on his burn. “Can you go rest in your room for me, Will? I just…” He huffed angrily. Why did this have to be so damn hard? “I don’t wanna leave him alone with Mom. Keep applying pressure on that burn okay?” He helps Will to his door and closes it behind him.

Will laid on his bed and stared blankly at the ceiling. It had all happened so fast.

*

The first thing he sees when he wakes is a faint blue glows through his curtains. He blinks several times like that’ll help make his vision less blurry and feel less tired. Then a hand grips Will’s hand tight and he’s tugged awake in fright then that’s replaced by a gentle nurture.

“Hey, Will, hey.” Joyce says from beside him. Her hair was flattened on one side from sleeping on it by Will’s side all night. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Mom…” Will gasps, he hurries to sit up but Joyce shushes him and pushes him back down into a sitting position. Will can now see Jonathan sat at the foot of his bed in his desk chair.

Jonathan smiles, a bit timidly, and nods.

Joyce is still incessantly rubbing Will’s hand. Now she plants a quick kiss on his cheek and whispers a sweet I love you.

Will kept looking around the room which to him seemed to be spinning but he wasn't sure. He looked at his drawings on the walls, of him in powerful places, of his family at their happiest and most beautiful and then at his brother and mother, both tired, faces tearstained and red. He took in how much his head hurt, his whole body hurt still. He felt guilt way his shoulders down.

“Dad’s not here, is he?” Will asks Joyce, staring past her and knowing the answer in his gut.

“He isn’t.” Jonathan answers.

Joyce smiles and tries to put on a tough face. “And he won’t be coming back.” She tells him.

“Did he hurt you guys too?” Will asked.

“No, he didn’t. He made me furious with him but he didn’t lay a finger on me or Jonathan.” Joyce says.

Jonathan stands anc comes and kneels beside Joyce. He places his hand over Joyce’s which was still holding Will’s and he managed to stretch his finger into Will’s palm which Will held tightly.

He looks up at the sky before he speaks, clearly frustrated he even has to do this. “We need you to tell us what happened, Will. What is going on with Mike?”

Joyce nods. “We want to help you, sweetie, you just need to talk to us. I promise you he will never come near you again.”

  
Then Will remembered why last night had happened, the things he had said, the things he had done and he let his head fall back onto the pillow and he groaned. His dad had abused him. His dad had dragged a cigarette across his hand and left bruises up his arms because he loved a boy. He felt something in his stomach swell up as his looked at his remaining family’s smiling but sad faces and he couldn’t find the words. Tears start to form.

Joyce started running her free hand over his hair and told him no, no, no. “I love you so much. So so much.” He said.   
Jonathan leans forward. “Is there something between you and Mike?” He asks.

Will nods.

“That’s great!” Joyce tells him, she grins.

“You’re gay?” Jonathan asks.

Will nods again and that's where he starts to cry and Joyce brings her arms around him and hugs him into the crook of her neck.

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, rubbing circles into his back.

Will and Jonathan share a smile over her shoulder.

After crying and hugging each other for a while and Joyce saying I love you so many times Will lays back on his bed again and everyone in the room is unable to control how much they smile at each other. They beam, glow really, radiate.

Jonathan chuckles and smirks at his brother. “Was it true that you… you know…? What you told him. The sex.” He said.

Will laughs then and hides his face in his hands. “No, no. I was… I was deliberately trying to piss him off.” He says, giggling like he’d said something absolutely outrageous.

Both Byers boys start to laugh then.

Joyce was still worried though. “That’s okay though.” She says, hurriedly staring at both her boys. “If you want to that’s okay. I just want to know if you are.”

  
Will giggles and squeezes her hand. “Mom, I swear I’m not having sex.”

Of all things that’s what his Mom was worried about and that overjoyed him.

*  
After that Joyce retreated to her room to finally get some good well deserved rest and went into a tired state where she couldn’t bring herself to move. Jonathan tried to get her to come out after she’d been asleep for two whole hours but she just wasn’t responsive. He said it was like she couldn’t hear him at all and when her eyes were open she stared off, empty, like she couldn’t see anything.

For the rest of the day Jonathan and Will sat on the floor in the living room. Jonathan ordered Will’s favourite pizza, pineapple, and played Jonathan’s mixtape and they talked about the latest Joy Division album, they talked about school, they talked about movies they were excited to see this year, they talked about Mike, they talked about just about anything and once again Will was happy to be there with his brother and to just talk and be friends.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked that! i’ve been waiting sooooo long to write this chapter and i think i’m really happy with how it turned out. next chapter may be the last one!!!
> 
> leave me your thoughts! <33


End file.
